Time To Make A Move
by Lanceletta
Summary: By the time Sherlock finally makes a decision which should change his life, Molly makes her own.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi Dears, here is another little story. This will be only a few chapters long. My only wish is that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoy writing it.**

 **Happy new year, Lanceletta**

On a cold winter afternoon

Molly was nervously fidgeting with the big yellow button of dark brown winter coat as she was waiting for someone to open the door of 221B Baker Street. This late winter evening the streets of London were still crowded and busy despite the chilly weather. Molly pulled upper the pink-black striped scarf under her chin. She tried to force a smile, or at least an easy expression but the muscles of her face insisted to keep the slightly worried and upset position reflecting the state of her heart.

She was so lost in her thoughts about her prepared speech that when the door suddenly opened up revealing a very dishevelled Sherlock Holmes she took a sharp intake of breath in surprise.

The man's annoyed expression first went into a confused one through something... something what was definitely close to a languorous smile.

'Molly, what are you doing here?' Sherlock stood still in the doorway as he burst it out. He seemed to block the entrance, holding the door tightly ajar. He looked perfection. His fresh white shirt with its sleeves turned up was just as tight as it should have been, his hair was freshly washed, and slightly dump and his searching eyes, while he was waiting for the answer simply captivated every thought of Molly's. However the scent flooding out from inside was so unusual. Yes. It was basil and thyme. Just like a fresh, Italian dinner. It wouldn't be so strange if she didn't know for sure that Mrs Hudson had gone to visit her sister in France.

'Can I... come in?' she asked nervously.

'It's not a completely... uhm... suitable time.'

Suddenly Molly realized what kind of situation she put herself into and blushed, feeling the heat rising up from her chest to the top of her head. She quickly snatched her hand to her cheek. Sherlock frowned slightly turning his head.

'Oh, oh. I'm sorry,' she panted. 'I-I am interrupting.'

'What?'

'I'm sorry, I should have known better. Of course, of course.'

'Interrupting what, Molly?' Sherlock's frown deepened and he mentally smacked himself for his suddenly spectacularly poor vocabulary.

'Never mind. Uhm. Huh-huh,' she laughed nervously. 'I can tell you what I want to standing here, anyway, can't I?'

'Molly, wouldn't you...?' Sherloch had a second thought about letting her in, they still could talk in the hallway without going upstairs. He definitely felt his dump hair getting icy.

'No!' Molly almost screamed then cleared her throat and repeated a bit calmer, 'No.'

'O-kay,' Sherlock tilted his head expectantly but the frown remained.

'So,' Molly started with a sigh before straightening her coat followed by a nervous giggling. 'I've been in love with you since the day I met you.' Seeing Sherlock's eyes getting bigger and his mouth slightly open, Molly decided it was better to get over her speech sooner than later. 'And I can't stop doing it. And it hurts, and I am miserable and I can't move on while I have you around. So please, please leave me alone. I mean, could we not meet for a while? It would help, I think, I hope. It helped last time, didn't it?'

As she ended the sentence a female voice called from upstairs. 'Sherlock, who is it?' It sounded so domestic to Molly she felt a sob choking her.

She became pale and her voice got husky and trembling. 'Please, Sherlock do this for me, just let me live, I can't go on like this.' Without waiting any answer she turned on her heels and ran down along the street. Sherlock was just staring at her leaving figure. On one hand he wanted to run after her to say something but on the other hand it clearly would have been the absolute disrespect of her request on leaving her alone. This didn't make any sense. He slowly closed the door and with heavy steps went up the stairs deep in his thoughts.

Three hours earlier

'Bloody hell Sherlock, is it that so hard to pick up your bloody phone or answer a text?' John Watson stormed through the door of his best friend's flat.

The sight in front of him was incredible. The usually dark, messy and chaotic flat in its own specific order was one cheerful, pink, flowery redolent mass now. For a brief moment he expected Sherlock jumping out of his room in a light pink tutu with daisies in his hair. He shrugged off the wildly vivid image and headed in to find his friend. The whole room was coved with leaf of roses, pink and white, fluffy toy puppies were occupying the mantelpiece, the kitchen table and even Billy, the scull had one peeking out of his left eyehole. As he stepped closer to the desk he noticed about a dozen different bouquets of flowers each with a piece of paper on it. He stepped closer to examine them. On each sheet there were the names and the meanings of the flowers the bouquets contained. John grimaced as he lifted up a brand new - the price was still on - dark pink lacy bra with a matching tong from the trophy's antler above the desk.

After this intriguing exploration he finally found Sherlock lying on the coach in his dressing gown with his face down, his arm hanging from the coach and absently fidgeting with one of the opened bottles of perfume lying about.

'It's case related, I suppose?' He cleared his throat but his friend's only answer was a loud growl. 'Or are you planning to change your profile and open the most fluffy and cheesy romantic gift shop in London?'

'Very funny John,' Sherlock huffed as he slightly turned his head. 'Your sense of humour has definitely improved. Oh, wait. It hasn't.'

John remained untouched by Sherlock's mocking tone and continued to walk towards his armchair. He comfortably sat down right after he carefully placed aside a packet of brochures for teenagers about safe sex.

'So?' He sighed examining his manicure pretending to be utterly bored.

Sherlock's answer was again a growl only this time it was a bit more miserable. John was waiting patiently toll the detective finally huffed and sat up ruffling his messy hair.

'Sooo...' Sherlock cleared his throat finding the old carpet's slightly visible pattern unbelievably interesting. When he lifted his gaze he saw his friend grinning like an idiot, not even trying to hide it.

'I'm glad you enjoy yourself,' Sherlock muttered ironically.

'Khm...I'm sorry. I'm listening.' John cleared his throat trying to straighten his expression but shamelessly failed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes. 'You are quite delighted with yourself, aren't you?'

'Oh, yes, very much. I've always said that one day I would see you miserably in love and then you would beg me for share my wide and multilevel knowledge. So yes, I'm bloody delighted.' John grinned wider with his eyebrows practically disappearing under his hair.

'I'm not begging,' Sherlock sulked but turned his attention towards his friend fully in the hope of gaining some useful information.

John sighed tapping his fingers on his chair's arm, pursing his lips looking everywhere in the room but his friend. Sherlock eyed John annoyed, huffing, twisting and turning in his seat.

'You just have to ask, you know.'

'Right,' Sherlock barked. 'Right.' With a sigh he closed his eyes and started. 'What one should do if one decides that they are not completely satisfied with the easy acquaintances with someone and one desires some kind of shift in the relationship.'

'You want to go out with someone?'

'I always knew that you were bright, John.' Sherlock murmured mockingly, looking down, dropping his head between his shoulders, so clearly to hide his embarrassment that John had to grin.

'So, who is it?' John asked innocently.

Sherlock shot up his head with narrowed eyes and a grimace. 'Oh please, like you didn't know.'

'So it's Molly, then?'

'Of course it's Molly. Do you know any other female who can tolerate me for more than ten minutes? Except your wife and Mrs Hudson, for obvious reasons. '

'Well, there's is Janine...' John suppressed a snort.

Sherlock huffed. 'She surely would free me some quite precious body parts if I ever tried ask her out. Not that I ever would get into myself something so tedious like playing domestic with her.'

That was it, despite John's best will laughter burst out from him.

'What?' Sherlock frowned clearly annoyed.

'Huh, sorry.' The doctor tried to catch his breath. 'It's just...huh...you were so stunning playing the attentive boyfriend, and yet so convincing. That was so not like you. God, I had to pick up my jaw from the floor.'

Sherlock frowned at his friend certainly not joining in his laughter. John couldn't have been more surprised when he saw Sherlock's expression becoming from angry to pained then to absolutely sorrowful. That moment the doctor's good mood disappeared and compunction took its place. He cleared his throat.

'Khm...Sorry. You are serious about this, aren't you?'

Sherlock looked straight into his friend's eyes. 'I couldn't be more serious, John.'


	2. Chapter 2

'John clapped his hands together enthusiastically. 'Well then, let's start the work. I call Mary.'

Before Sherlock could protest John's phone was already on his ears. The detective sighed and leaned back with closed eyes in surrender.

'Dear Lord.' Mary stopped in amazement as she crossed the threshold with baby Julie in her arms. 'Has a fluff bomb exploded here?' She entered very carefully not to step on a plush puppy or sexy underwear. As she reached John she gave a small peck on his lips and turned to look around in the room properly. 'Despite the fact that Julie would love this place more like this then with mould cultures everywhere we have to clean up.' She eyed Sherlock and seeing his pale face and unusually lean form she frowned. 'When was the last time you ate anything?'

'Uhm...not long ago.' Sherlock straightened himself.

'When?' Mary pushed while her gaze wandered to the slightly green toast and blossoming jam on the coffee table.

'Two days ago,' Sherlock murmured looking down at his feet.

'All right then, let's start.' Mary grinned and put down the happily giggling Julie next to a bunch of fluffy pink kittens.

'First of all, Sherlock, you go and clean yourself up. Yes, you even have to shave. And fetch yourself some decent clothes too. John you go down and get some sacks and put into them all this...stuff,' she spoke clearly amused, lifting a very tiny pink bra. 'I'll make something digestible.'

Both men were staying where they were sitting staring at her. 'Come on, come on!' She said waving her hand. They stood up silently and Sherlock headed slowly to the bathroom while John to the stairs. 'Like you were living creatures.' Mary sang.

When Sherlock excited the bathroom, the food was almost ready and half of the living room was clear from the romantic gadgets.

'Now, here is our prince in his shining armour,' Mary cheered. 'Sit down. It's time to learn how to get the girl. Oh, don't pout.'

Sherlock only growled and sat down to the kitchen table. 'You find embarrassingly huge amount of amusement in this situation.'

Mary turned with a grin and she theatrically nodded. 'Oooh, yesss.'

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but the last days' confusion spent with reading more and more idiotic advice of how to make his intentions clear to Molly made him stay and listen to Mary.

'First of all, show her your respect. We are not teenagers anymore. Lust and romance are great but respect and trust we all need to be able to have a deep relationship. The second one is that you have to make her feel nee...'

The ringing of the downstairs bell interrupted Mary.

Mrs Hudsoooon,'Sherlock shouted but the waited noise didn't come. Mrs Hudsooooon.' Still nothing. Sherlock, with an annoyed sigh got up and left to open the front door himself.

For his utter surprise there stood Molly in her big coat smiling sweetly. Sherlock's first reaction was happiness, he almost felt those certain butterflies in his stomach, then he realized that no matter how he wanted to invite her in the flat still wasn't in acceptable state. Usually he wouldn't have been embarrassed, but he knew how much not so innocent lingerie was lying around. And he didn't really know what acceptable explanation he could come up.

Sherlock took the steps upstairs slowly with a deep frown. Mary turned as she heard him enter.

'Who was it?' she asked cheerfully but her smile faded away as she saw the detective's expression. 'Sherlock?'

'It was Molly.' he murmured.

John entered the kitchen as he heard the answer. Julie was cavorting in his arms, giggling.

Sherlock silently walked to the window and took his violin. Before he lifted it to his jaw he mumbled, 'She wants me to leave her alone.' With this he got his bow and started to play. John gulped and looked at his wife expectantly. Mary shook her head sadly as she wiped her hands into a mildly clean kitchen towel.

The Watsons new exactly how superfluous it would have been to ask anything of Sherlock. Mary and Julie had gone home long ago, when the last cords of the slow ballad faded away and the detective let down his delicate instrument.

'I'm too late. I've always been pathetically slow in these things.' He was still standing there staring down the night street. The light of the passing cars draw his expression hard and troubled.

John had to clear his throat, he hadn't spoken for hours. 'Sherlock...what did she say exactly?'

The detective turned to face his friend. His eyes were sharp and cold. 'She said I should leave her alone because... loving me is too painful for her.' He frowned looking down. It was really not his area. 'I've always thought that her infatuation would no longer exist if she knew the real me. Even being around me is difficult. I would ruin her and now she knows it too.' He sighed and shrugged. 'It's better this way.' He put down the violin and started to walk towards the door to get his coat 'I have to clean my head.'

'Sherlock, listen.' John sprung up to hold back his friend. 'You should talk to her, before you decide for good. These kinds of things are never this simple. Have you ever told her how you felt?'

'It is quite obvious from the way I treat her.' Sherlock stated in an even voice.

John winced. 'No it's not. Maybe you are not an git around her anymore but this doesn't mean that your romantic interest is clear.'

'No, John, I think she was very perspicuous.' He shook his head.

'Sherlock, don't do anything stupid.' John sighed as he let go his friend.

'Don't worry, John. Even I don't think that drugs would make anything clearer.' Sherlock rolled his eyes. With this he disappeared in the staircase.

John stared after him than murmured under his breath. 'Yes, you do.' He grabbed his coat and quickly followed.

Sherlock was only half surprised as he saw John climbing into the cab beside him. He huffed in annoyance and told the cabbie John's address.

'Oh, no, Sherlock, you can't get rid of me that easily.' He continued towards the driver. To 128 Blackbird Street, please.' And with this John leaned back with a self content smile.

'I don't bloody go to Molly.' Sherlock hissed in anger.

'Of course you bloody do.' John smiled.

'Sherlock was about to jump out of the car when he felt a familiar pressing on his side under his ribcage. His eyebrows disappeared in his hair as he side glanced at John.

'You wouldn't do it.' He said through gritted teeth.

'Of course I would. My best friend's happiness, maybe even life depends on it, so believe me, I would.' John shrugged.

Sherlock turned towards him to examine the doctor's face in surprise.

'Killing me wouldn't make sense.'

'I would never kill you but I would hurt you very badly if you don't pull your head out of your ass.'

'And people think that I'm the psychopath.'

John only nodded as he watched his friend. 'I've learnt from the bests.'

As the car pulled aside in front of Molly's house Sherlock swallowed thickly.

'Why don't you push that bloody gun to my ribs anymore?' He asked mockingly.

John nodded towards the entrance. 'Do you want me to hold your hand while you are speaking to her?'

'No.' Sherlock growled. 'But how would you know I don't back out and leave.

'Because she had already looked out through the window and knows you are here. You don't want her to think that you flee, do you?'

Sherlock only growled.

'Good. Then pull yourself together and tell her that you love her, want to have sex with her, than want to marry her than have more sex and have lots of babies. She won't be able to say no to this.'

Sherlock frowned at his best friend than got out without any further word.

Molly looked out her window with a hot chocolate in her hand. The sun had been gone long ago and the street lights and Christmas decorations were lighting the empty streets. Everybody was happy to hide in their warm homes after a cold day.

A lonely cab appeared and for Molly's surprise it stopped right in front of her door. As she looked better she saw a familiar curly head's silhouette through the car's window. She frowned nervously and turned to go away from the window hoping to somehow make Sherlock disappear by not looking at him. She had been half expecting him not to accept her decision. She had prepared her heart for this battle. At least as best as she could.

But not seeing Sherlock didn't make him disappear at all hence the doorbell soon rang and no matter how she didn't want to face him she knew she had to.

Molly stood in front of her front door, her hand on the handle, and she pushed down as she took a long intake of breath.

There he stood a bit dishevelled and wrinkled but her heart missed a beat anyway.

Molly didn't want to let him in she wanted to cut this conversation as short as possible.

'Molly,' he started but he had to clear his throat to be able to continue. 'Molly.'

'Yes?' She tilted her head as she felt tears coming forward in her eyes.

'John made me come here.' He spit it out.

'Why?'

'He thinks we need to talk.'

Molly sighed deeply and waited for him to continue.

Sherlock closed his eyes and swallowed. ' _I_ think we need to talk.'

'Sherlock, it's...please.' Molly pinched the top of her nose closing her eyes with a sigh. 'I've been completely honest with you. I don't need negotiations or persuasion. I need you to love me back or I need you to be away from me.'

Now sobbing started to shake her shoulders as she had gave all away. It didn't matter anymore she just wanted to end this conversation on her doorstep. She had decided earlier not to let him in because she had known that he would find his way and convince her continue to help him in the lab and the morgue . 'I know one of these is not possible, so please...' Molly shook her head.

'You can't still want me after all I've done. It doesn't make sense.' Sherlock whispered with closed eyes.

Molly lifted her gaze and examined the man in front of her. 'I know, but love doesn't always make sense, Sherlock. That's...'

However Molly couldn't finish since her mouth was occupied with kissing Sherlock back who had launched himself at her, almost oversetting her. But he was able to keep his balance and lifted her with his arms tightly around her waist.

'You were right. One of those is not possible. I couldn't be away from you.'

John leaned back on the cab's back seat with a relieved smile. He was quite satisfied with himself not without any reason.

 **Thank you for reading this second chapter too. I hope you liked it, let me know.**


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